


To Have And Have Not

by isitandwonder



Category: Actor RPF, Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, Charmie, Hand Jobs, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, golden globes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-10
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2019-03-03 06:20:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13335270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isitandwonder/pseuds/isitandwonder
Summary: Armie and Timmy at the Golden Globes. They don't win an award but they still make the best of it...





	To Have And Have Not

**Author's Note:**

  * For [missmuffin221](https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmuffin221/gifts).



> While watching the Golden Globes together, Missmuffin221 asked me for a fic with Armie and Timmy touching under the table... then someone suggested they make out in the coat check. Well, this is what I came up with. I hope you like it. Just some PWP to soothe the disappointment.  
> Usual RPF disclaimer: I don't know these people, this is a work of ficiton, nothing featured in this story happened for real.

Armie's truly grateful for the long table cloth he'd joked about earlier when they'd been seated at their table at the Golden Globes. Otherwise, this would be really, really embarrassing, even by his standards.

His category had been called quite early in the evening – and, much as he had low-key expected, he hadn't won. That was okay. For him, being nominated in the first place had been an incredible honor. He didn't care much for awards. If you got lucky they were nice events, and sometimes even involved a great after-party, but could also be tedious in the extreme. Essentially, they were work. And anyway, as he had said before, even if no one saw or liked their movie, it had been a life-changing experience for him and that was already reward enough. 

That, and his … _whatever_ … it was that he had with Timothée.

The nature of their relationship was something he pondered rather a lot at this moment, due to Timmy's hand high up on his thigh beneath the table cloth. That hand had clamped down there right after Sam Rockwell being announced as best supporting actor. At first, Armie had thought it was Timmy's way to reassure him, or to deal with his own nerves, but by now he had his doubts.

Because why would that involve literally massaging Armie's leg? Or, not only his leg but... even higher up?

Liz didn't notice as she was talking to Dakota. Timmy's sister didn't notice either, chatting with Luca in her husky French.

Even Timmy seemed oblivious for all the world as to what his fingers were up to. He seemed totally relaxed, laughing at jokes, watching actor and actresses present and accept awards, even waved at acquaintances he knew from school or other films he'd done.

Yet his left hand was by now almost palming Armie's groin.

Not that Armie minded. In fact, that he didn't mind _at all_ would maybe have disturbed him more if he hadn't followed his own advice and had started to do justice to the excellent champagne. One absolute highlight of the Globes was the quality _and_ quantity of the booze provided. At no other award show was it that easy and even expected to get completely pissed.

So Armie was knocking back bubble and sat through the ceremony while Timmy groped him without any outward sign of either embarrassment or particular interest. Only Armie, who knew his co-star well enough by now to notice, saw the rosy flush on his cheeks and his wide eyes, shining a little brighter than usual.

Timmy's fingers had traveled up the inside of his leg quite assured, sliding along the inner seem of his bespoke trousers. When his fingertips had first brushed Armie's cock, he'd almost led out a small yelp which he'd covered quickly with a cough. Timmy, looking in the other direction at the stage, had smirked a little before digging in in earnest.

By now, Armie was hard and leaking. Surely, there must be a wet spot on his fly but thank god it wouldn't show on the dark wool. When Timmy dug the heel of his hand in exceptionally hard, Armie sat up straighter while leaning back in his chair. He was getting a more than a little drunk and truly started to enjoy Timmy's attentions.

Until he had to get up as Lady Bird was called Best Comedy. Armie felt outright bereft. His raging erection didn't wane, however. He sat almost mortified when Taika Waititi threw an arm around his shoulder and clinked glasses with him, though. Luckily, the table cloth hid all the evidence of what he and Timmy had been up to.

When Timmy was gone backstage, Armie kind of came around a little. Surely, what Timmy was doing to him must be a joke, a dare. Perhaps a bet with his sister or that bloke who'd held him tight when Greta had made her acceptance speech. Very tight. They'd whispered as well, and then Timmy had grinned wickedly.

God, Armie hated that dude. Even his cock throbbed angrily.

But then Timmy was back, right in time for the best actor category to be called. He didn't put his hand back, though. Even he must have sensed that feeling up your co-star while almost I billion people were watching was a little risky.

Which didn't mean that Armie had such qualms. As Timmy sat back down and turned towards the camera, Armie reached out below the table cloth and pinched one of his buttocks – hard. Now it was Timmy who suddenly sat up rather rigid (much to his mom's delight 3000 miles away in New York), compared to his otherwise almost slouched lounging. He intertwined his hands as if he wanted to applaud but it was probably just to stop them from shaking. A bright grin split Armie's face before he started to clap his hands as Timmy's name was mentioned.

Yet he didn't win either.

Beneath the table, their hands intertwined and squeezed. Timmy's thumb caressed Armie's knuckles while Armie allowed his fingers to slide tenderly between Timmy's. They held onto each other until the end of the gala.

When the last category had been called and their film hadn't won in that either, they stayed seated at the table while the others got up and started to mingle, talk to acquaintances or made for the bar.

Timmy turned to Armie, pulled his hand free and very deliberately reached out beneath the table to cup Armie's groin again.

“You're still hard. That's promising.” He quoted their script. Taika almost snorted his drink before excusing himself, getting up to get more booze and give them some privacy.

Armie grinned. Liz was by now talking to Chris Hemsworth. That would keep her busy for some time.

“I think you shocked him.” He said to Timmy, nodding his head in the direction of Taika who was dragging Dakota along.

Timmy laughed. “You think so? Really?”

Armie chuckled and shrugged.

“So, which after-party are you attending?” Timmy asked a little too nonchalant.

“Don't know yet. I think I just want to get wasted. Don't care where.” Armie kept his answer deliberately vague as well. 

“Um... so...”

“Yep.” Armie's eyes bore into Timmy's, who didn't avert his gaze but grabbed his cock instead and brushed his thumb over the tip. Armie swallowed convulsively before closing his fingers around Timmy's delicate wrist, stilling his inquisitive hand.

“Ouch.” Timmy mouthed, trying to pull his hand free but Armie only held on tighter. “You are hurting me.” Timmy mumbled under his breath.

“Am I?” Armie stared him down. “Then don't be such a tease.”

“Why not? I thought you liked it?” Timmy sounded confused.

“I do like it. Very much. But how am I going to get up and drag you somewhere secluded with a raging boner tenting my trousers, hm?”

“Fair enough.” Timmy admitted.

Armie arched his eyebrows and Timmy gave a curt nod in response. After releasing his arm, Armie poured himself the last of the champagne before putting the bottle back the wrong side up into the ice bucket. Timmy sniggered.

“What?” Armie knocked back the champagne to calm down a little.

“My dad used to sigh when Americans did that in the restaurants we went to when in Paris. He called them _barbares_.”

“Well, I can get pretty wild and dangerous, that's for sure.” Armie grinned, not the least bit offended. “ _Russkaya krov_.”

When Timmy just stared blankly back at him, Armie sighed. “Okay, how about you try to organize some more liquor and meet me in the coat check in about ten minutes, my little linguist. Let's see what else your tongue is good at.”

“My French is flawless.” Timmy's smile was outright dirty.

“I know.” Armie agreed.

\----------

Ten minutes later, Armie has managed to leave the main hall and sneak into the foyer. His bespoke suits helps to hide his still semi-erect cock – tailoring worth every cent – and luckily, they were all handed some goody bags that he now holds in front of his groin when colleagues ask him where he's going. Having a smoke, is what he replies. Luckily, all those health fanatics did quit a while ago, so no one offers to accompany him.

He gets the bored wardrobe staff – a spotty teenager – to leave for half an hour by offering said goody bag and fifty bucks, then waits for Timmy to show up.

And the kid is true to his word. Rather victoriously, he waves a bottle of Vodka in his right hand.

“Look what I got us, tovarich.”

Armie shakes his head but knocks back a slosh anyway, before pulling Timmy behind the counter to hide between the expensive coats, plaids and jackets stored there. Timmy takes a sip as well and presses his mouth unashamed on Armie's. The sharp tinge of Vodka makes them both heady as they moan into each others mouth while their tongues entwine, finally.

The kiss is sloppy, too eager, too wet, and Vodka drips from both their lips, staining their collars, but neither gives a fuck. Timmy dives in and licks the traces off Armie's throat, tasting his cologne mixed with the alcohol and sweat, and it's intoxicating.

He slides to his knees in now time while Armie grabs the bottle, putting it to his lips and knocking back another while Timmy deftly opens his fly.

“No pants!” He sounds almost shocked.

“Liz says they ruin the line.” Armie smiles down at him, suddenly not predatory but tender and full of love. Until Timmy sucks his by now hard cock into his hot mouth. Armie's head knocks back against the wall, the impact softened by a silky Dolce & Gabbana coat.

“Jesus.” He exhales, but Timmy just takes him deeper, his talented tongue caressing the underside of Armie's thick shaft. After a moment, however, he almost pulls of, just his pink tongue around and around Armie's glans, the tip ever so slightly brushing over the frenulum. Armie's legs start to feel like jelly.

“God, you are truly talented.” He gasps. “If there was an award for giving head, I'm sure you wouldn't miss out.”

“That's what James Franco told me in the gents as well.” Timmy pops off and gives Armie's cock a hard tug.

Armie almost doubles over and has to grab Timmy's bony shoulder for leverage. “What? Did that motherfucker try to chat you up? I knew he had it bad for fresh meat but I thought he was into girls.” Armie has to take another sip of Vodka to wash his mouth.

“Just kidding.” Timmy says, his eyes hooded by now, looking up at Armie through his dark lashes. 

“Don't...” Armie sighs, raking his hand gently through Timmy's too long curls.

Timmy swallows, his hand caressing Armie. “It's just, the way he came after you at that dinner...” Timmy rubs his smooth, hairless cheek against Armie's erection, mouthing the junction between thigh and groin before mumbling. “He got all touchy-feel y...”

“Are you serious?” Armie can't suppress a giggle. “Me with that... douche-bag? I wouldn't touch him if he was the last man standing – and neither should you. There are dudes you should stay way clear off.” Armie suddenly feels protective of his lover. Timmy is still so young, he realizes. True, he knows New York and its theater scene, but Hollywood is a different kind of shark basin.

“I know.” Timmy assures him, pressing a soft kiss to Armie's stomach.

“There are some bad people... holy shit!”

Timmy has just swallowed him whole. Armie can feel his throat muscles contract around his cock. “Fuck.” He breathes, and then falls quiet as Timmy works him expertly, sucking, swallowing, licking him until he's about to pass out with lust. His hand rests just lightly on the crown of Timmy's head, neither holding nor forcing him, just grounding him.

It doesn't take long, not after the built-up under the table. They are past warning each other. When Timmy feels Armie swell in his mouth, he just sucks harder until Armie comes down his throat with a somewhat guttural curse on his lips. Timmy swallows the salty load, then wipes his mouth as he pulls off. Armie offers him the Vodka bottle and he washes the taste of semen down with a generous swig.

He almost hasn't enough time to drown his liquor before Armie pulls him up and swaps places with him, pinning Timmy against the wall. Yet Armie's not getting on his knees. He knows Timmy is too keyed up by now for that. He just unzips his trousers and reaches inside. Timmy is so very hard and leaking, easily lubricating Armie's large hand. It only takes a few strokes before he shivers in Armie's arms and comes into his large fist, his head resting against Armie's collarbone.

Armie kisses him, deep, to stifle his moans, and tastes himself there as well as the pungent flavor of the Vodka – and the unique Timmy taste.

They have trouble staying upright afterwards. Armie is panting hard and has to lean into Timmy's chest, and that somehow keeps them both on their feet. After a much needed moment to get their breath back, Armie pulls out Timmy's pocket-square to wipe his hand. Timmy giggles happily.

“That suit is only borrowed.” He huffs out.

“Well, I'm sure they are used to it. It's awards season.”

They both share another swig of Vodka before they straighten up as best they can and return to the main auditorium. The first attendees are starting to leave, pouring into the foyer to go to one of the glamorous after-parties.

Yet Armie and Timmy make for the bar, grinning a little madly, the backs of their hands brushing as they walk side by side. They attract a few curious glances but they don't care.

Even if they didn't win a Globe, they are each others most treasured prize. And they don't give a fuck if that irritates someone. Because how can anyone who's seen their film not understand that they belong together?


End file.
